One, because I didn't want to jinx things; to ramble on about this boy and then nothing materialise. Two, because believe it or not I don't like everybody knowing all of my business all the time. And three, because some things are nice to just enjoy and not write/moan/overanalyse about.
Over the last 6 months however I have attempted many a blog post to share my boy updates, they just never really made the cut (or I chickened out of posting at the very last minute). I want to use this post to give those lovely written sentences their 5 minutes of fame.
So here goes:
13th November 2014
If you hadn't realised by now, I have myself a boyfriend. My absence in writing comes from a good place. A place where I was reluctant to share all my boy goss. Quite frankly, I was afraid of slipping into my usual routine where things cock up and I spend the next few months (and many blog posts) analysing what exactly went wrong. Instead of sharing and risking all that drama I decided to keep schtum. I also kept schtum because sometimes it's nice not to share.
I realise that boy-bipolar is much more fascinating to the outside world than a cute little love story. The interest in reading about my dating disasters totally out-weighs the popularity in reading about a lovely date night. Who cares how much I hold my BF's hand as we stroll about at the weekend and who cares that he has his very own toothbrush sitting in my toothbrush holder. No one. Not really anyway and that's OK.
I realise that boy-bipolar is much more fascinating to the outside world than a cute little love story. The interest in reading about my dating disasters totally out-weighs the popularity in reading about a lovely date night. Who cares how much I hold my BF's hand as we stroll about at the weekend and who cares that he has his very own toothbrush sitting in my toothbrush holder. No one. Not really anyway and that's OK.
8th August 2014
My Summer fling has returned to Uni - or as he calls it 'college'. He left last week, pretty much leaving for the airport from my front door. I spent the next ten or so hours following his flight on a plane tracker app.
During his last few weeks we both kind of avoided the big leaving-the-country-for-16-weeks elephant in the room. I simply didn't know how was I going to feel about it, so it wasn't worth worrying about.
His last weekend we made sure was jam packed with fun. We spent one day at the zoo and the next at a local festival with his friends. Needless to say we both got hammered. It was under the influence of bucket cocktails that he confessed he was sad to be going back to Uni, that he wanted to keep in touch and that we both admitted to having had amazing summers.
To be honest, during his last week I sensed a hint of dread hanging in the air the whole time. All I kept thinking was 'this will the last time he sleeps over/we have the day together/we'll watch crappy tele'. It reminded me of my Uni days and how I used to feel going back for a new term, leaving all my family and friends. I was sad to be honest. Even though we had both said we would keep in touch it's not quite the same. It felt like the definite end of our/my summer of fun.
